


Icarus

by Killjoy013



Series: Prometheus [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, I just found this, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Morally Grey Peter Parker, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter's gonna get an upgrade, Tony stark is less than stellar, Training, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, they bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-03 22:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killjoy013/pseuds/Killjoy013
Summary: "I warn you to travel in the middle course, Icarus, so that the wavesmay not weigh down your wings if you go too low,and so that the sun will not scorch your wings if you go too high."Peter is nothing. He let everyone down, he let Uncle Ben down. He was a freak. He was a shadow. No suit, no Ned and no Tony Stark, nobody.





	1. I warned you to travel in the middle course, Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> Had to dig this one up from the docs. Comments are appreciated as well as kudos.

Tony Stark’s words echoed in his head. “What if somebody had died? That's on you.” Peter ran, out of costume and his mind. He ran until his lungs were on fire and his legs burned. When he couldn't run anymore, he took a ferry. Then Peter scaled rooftops. He didn't care if he was seen anymore, why should he? No suit, no Ned and no Tony Stark, nobody. His vision blurred by tears and rain. He had a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away. ”If you're nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it.”

It was all gone, he was back to square one and Peter hates it, the way his loose clothes cling to his skin in the rain and how his converse grips the gravel in all the wrong ways. He leaps over a gap of 35 feet and his foot clips a wire. Peter flails, screaming his eyes shut. His spidey sense throws him into a frenzy, makes everything loud and slower as he falls. He couldn't have stopped even if he tried. His back hit a dumpster and Peter’s face met pavement. Hard.

“ _Shit._ ” he groans, spitting out blood. He rolled over, putting more pain on back. The rain beat down on him as Peter laid there, the blood on his face washing away in the rain. Peter’s gasp of pain sounded more like a pained sob. He let everyone down, he let _Uncle Ben_ down. He was a freak. He was a shadow. He was a-“I’m a nobody.” he realized and sobs wracked his body. He turned over and curled up, hugging his knees.

Tony watched his camera track the teen. He winced as Peter fell, knowing damn well that the kid should not have let that happen. The echoing thud that was a body hitting a dumpster shook Tony to the core. “C’mon, kid. Get up.” he whispered, hand curled into fists.

“Shit.” he heard Pete gasp as he hit the ground face-first. The boy turned over and Tony saw the red eyes and shaking lip. Guilt burned in his gut but he had to believe that he did the right thing. Peter’s eyes darted and for a split second, Tony thought he saw the camera. But no, he knew the look on that face too well, Peter felt insignificant. “I’m a nobody.” Peter whimpered, and Tony felt like he swallowed a rock.

(He cried even as lightning flashed and illuminated the sky. Peter cried until the tears ran dry.)

And when the tears ran dry, he sat there, guilt and shame filling him. Flash would give him hell if he ever saw this. He was weak and that made him angry. He wasn’t a pussy. Not anymore. Peter roughly wiped his eyes and stood up, his body screaming for him to stay down. As he got up, his ribs throbbed, like every breath he took was making his lungs press into his ribcage. Peter pulled the hood over head and staggered off, to wherever he could go without going home. The Stark tower glared at him in the skyline as he crossed into Hell’s Kitchen turf. He limped across the street, ignoring the guy in rags shaking a cup at Peter’s feet. Noises of a fight came from what looked like an empty gym. Peter, not giving it a second thought, broke into a sprint.

He turned the corner and peered into the gym. Peter was beat up pretty good but he could fight, there was fight still in him. What he saw was something else entirely. A guy, a pretty buff one too, letting the bag have it. He was muttering under his breath, Peter felt the same way.   
  
The lights inside shut off and something heavy crashed into a pile of trash next to him. Spidey sense going off, he whipped around and waited. Silence came from the trash pile. He crept closer. Dread pooled in his stomach as he realized he wasn't in Avengers territory, he was in Daredevil’s, a guy who likes put you in a coma instead of killing you.

“Get lost, kid.” A voice grunted from behind him and Peter nearly had an aneurysm. He turned on his heel and saw the source of the voice. It was the guy from inside the gym, he was tall, with some scuff and less scary up close. His hands were still wrapped and Peter could see spots of red on the bandages.

“You snuck up on me. Nobody sneaks up on me, ever.” He said, more to himself than this dude.

“Yeah, I’m handy like that. Listen, it’s late. I’m sure your parents are worried.” The guy said, placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder. A sharp stab of pain run his neck and Peter hissed, pulling away. He glanced up and the man, who hasn't made any eye contact with him yet.

“My parents are dead.” he blurted out.

“Yeah? Join the club. Why are you here?” Jack, Peter can’t keep calling him guy in his head, said softly. His eyes wandering down as Peter replies. Peter doesn’t keep the angry out of his words.

“I ran away, not-not permanently but for right now. Shit happens,” he answers, an unreadable expression passing on his face.

“Why did you run?”

“I was, I dunno, sad and angry. Still am.”

“Most of the time, when people run away, they are running away a person or an event.”

“Yeah, well why do you care?”

“You seem like a good kid.”

“Not good enough, it seems.”

They fall into a not completely awkward silence. Then Jack, noticing the shiver in Peter’s voice, leads him into the gym, closing the door tightly. Old newspaper casts a yellow light, cutting through the dust lingering in the air. Jack disappears into a rusty locker room and returns with a new set of clothes.

Peter notices the weird walk the guy posses, with slight swagger but mostly stiff, tilting his head a lot, even if it's a centimetre, and sighs like he's always tired. Peter glances around and spots something that makes his question die in his throat. It's a cane, not a pimp cane, but a cane for blind people. He thinks rapidly 'Maybe Jack's legally blind like he can see shadows or just in one eye.' But that too is a half-baked idea, with the way Jack's eyes seem to wander and stray but the way his muscles coiled in response to Peter like he was ready to defend himself at all costs.  
  
The dilemma shook him a bit until Jack chuckled lightly. "If you staring at my cane and wondering if I'm actually blind, the answer is yes. No, I wasn't born like this. I was a kid when I lost my sight completely. Any more questions?" He lists off placing the pile of clothes in Peter's reach, to which the teen takes gratefully. Peter goes silent for a moment then smiles gently.

"What's your name? I'm-I'm Peter, Peter Parker." He asks. Jack's blank face splits into a crooked smile.

"Matthew Murdock or just Matt." He supplies sticking his hand out. Peter fumbles for a bit until he shoves the clothes under his arm and grasps the outstretched hand firmly, just Ben told him to. Matt's hand is rough and slightly cold but he's so confident in that motion that Peter is a little scared of this man. "But Jack was close, I'll admit." He chuckled.

"So, you want to tell me why you ran?" Matt asked. Peter sighed and opened his mouth.

"This was all my fault." he whispered.

"Start at the beginning." Matt advised.


	2. Waves Will Weigh Down Your Wings If You Go Too Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want more of this with comments (love those btw) and kudos (these work as well). Hope you like it. Also no beta we write like real men!

  
Peter had just gotten a scholarship to Midtown in the mail and so had Ned, who had already ripped it opened the second he saw his name and was accepted. Ben had May open it while Peter's eyes were closed. She was silent then screamed and nearly tackled Peter to the ground in sheer happiness. Ben had lifted both of them off the ground and shouted "My boy's a genius! My son is going to Midtown!"

They even went out to eat at Peter's favorite place. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled so much his face ached. It was one of the happiest days of his life. It was the type of day you're supposed to look back on fondly and smile but instead, it just leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Flash forward three weeks later. Peter was walking, just coming from Ned's place, to get some food. May had to take a graveyard shift and Ben was in another state working as usual so Peter had no curfew. He liked to bike or sometimes skate at night and take pictures of the Bronx and Queens.

He decided to raid a gas station on since May had given cash for dinner. Peter had been swiping from aisles when the door burst opened. Ducking subconsciously, he peered around the shelf full of chips and saw something that made the blood drain from his face and making him drop his snack. A man wearing Scream mask, shouting about cash and holding a shotgun. Peter crouched down and crept closer.

"Whoever the fuck is in the back, get your ass _up here_!" Scream shouted, turning around. Peter quickly shoved his wallet in the fridge and stood up straight. Palms sweating and blood pumping, he slowly and deliberately walked to the front.

"What the fuck did you see, huh!?" Scream growled, pushing the gun to Peter's chest. He suddenly had the vision of Peter Parker in a pool of his own blood and May screaming and crying in the doorframe as an officer told her the news of his death. He steeled his face and dread pooled in his stomach. He glanced at the man behind the counter and saw the picture behind him of his family. The man must have read his mind because he shook his head and mouthed a 'go' to Peter.

"Nothing."

"Good boy."

"Whatever, man."

Scream sneered and raised his gun to the counter, where Peter could an anarchy tattoo on his forearm. The cashier slid a paper bag then he reached over and grabbed at the mask. The action had pulled off his mask, freeing his face. That man's face was burned into Peter's mind. Scream turned and glared at him but the cashier tackled him. Peter scrambled back, to go back for his wallet when a shot rang out. He kept looking forward and leaped through the milk cartons, making the shelves fall. It was stupid but he looked back and saw, in the sea of white, his wallet. Peter snatched it up and ran through the fridge, trying to find a door.

A yell filled the tense silence. Peter looked to the right and found a bolted door. He heard confident footsteps getting closer and fumbled to open. Another gunshot rang out that was so much closer as the door creaked open. Peter broke in a dead sprint to his bike. He hopped on and peddled fast, avoiding the main street and didn't stop until he was home. Peter never told a soul.

A month later, an officer was at their door, telling about the murder of Ben Parker and how the man was last seen wearing a Scream mask and had an anarchy tattoo. The funeral was ten days later but it all felt like a blur to Peter. May had tried to get him to go outside but all attempts failed. Until September came.  
  
Midtown had organized a field trip to Osborn exhibit incoming Freshman so they can get to know each other and May had forced him to go. The exhibit was a nerd's wet dream come true and May knew that so she wouldn't take no for an answer. She had dropped him off and reminded him that she had work so he would have to go home on his own. The teacher droned on about rules and then let them loose in groups. Peter had hung back, interested in the gene mutation of insects rather than fossil or the food court.

He fiddled with lanyard as he read the stats of the lone Chimerarachne yingi that had been saved from extinction with the help of DNA splicing and adding. "The ancient creature hunts at night much like the wolf spider. It lures its prey in a corner and strikes-" The automated voice recited as he neared the glass case. The group had just moved on to the next section over when Peter noticed the lid had a crack in it with a trail of web flowing out of it to the floor. The webbing was strong and thick enough for him to pick up and see even with the stark white tiles.

He followed, knocking into people to pick it up and winding it around his fingers like the string from a kite. Peter then found trails of blood that seem to be from the spider. Worried that the creature had begun to die, Peter explored faster and finally found it in a janitor's closet next to the gender-neutral bathroom.

"Where are you? You're too rare to get squished by some kid." He uttered and the shuffling of claws answered. Peter turned on the light on his phone and nothing. His face scrunched up in confusion then morphed into terror. There, on the ground, was the janitor lying in a pool of his blood and bleach. Peter quickly spun around and found webbing covering the door. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that if that thing could off a full grown man, the odds weren't in Peter's favor. He shuddered and pointed his phone up. Peter stared up and a scream died in his throat. Eight eyes that reflected in the light blinked and hissed. The phone dropped from his shaking fingers but the spotlight was still on it. A mass of fur and limbs was revealed and Peter wished he could un-see that monster.

He stumbled back and hit the ground as liquid sprayed in his face. Peter's glasses and face began to burn and crack as the acid ate through the plastic and glass. Blinded, he clawed at his face, ripping his glasses off and sliding back into a wall. The spider snarled again and lunged at Peter who didn't even stand a chance.

"Get it off me! Get it off!" Peter tried to shout but the acid was on his throat and in his nose and mouth. Claws began to shred his chest as it skittered up Peter's body. He can only gasp out in pain its tail pierced his chest and fangs plunged into Peter's neck.

Peter Parker's body convulsed and eventually went slack but he could still feel the pain spreading, consuming and burning his very being. Foam frothed at his mouth and the last thing he saw before he passed out was eight glittering eyes staring right back him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Stay tuned and stay safe. Killjoy out!


	3. The Sun will scorch your wings if you go too high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated as well as kudos!

 

### The Sun will scorch your wings if you go too high.

A swerving truck. A scared old man. One little determined Matthew Murdock.

Matt had made a decision one, to be exact, made in a split second but a real decision that changed his life. His dad always said to do right no matter what and Matty did. He, being the skinny little thing Matt was, used all his strength to push the man away from harm. Matt didn't even think...he just did. The barrels fell out and scattered every which way. The truck blared his horn before hitting an empty building to the left.

Matty was hit by a heavy metal barrel and landed on the pavement, his skin grinding on the asphalt. Groaning facedown on the street, Matt knew he did the right thing but god did it hurt. Clear liquid smeared his face and hands but he had to find his dad. Then a wave of nausea hit him, making him kneel over. It quickly transformed into pain. His skin was peeling and his eyes were on fire, Matt's vision began to black in and out and the world went red. All he could see was red and black. He scratched and wiped at his eyes but the pain doubled.

Blackness consumed his vision. Hands began to touch him. Dad, he knew those rough hands littered with scars and scabs anywhere. "Matty! Matty! Don't, don't move, okay? No, no, no! Just Don't move." He hushed his son but Matt could hear worry worming its way into his voice.

"Dad, what happened?" He asked. Matty had to know if the man was okay. That it wasn't all in vain. Strings of words became garbled and distorted but he heard the man. Thank god. The fire in his eyes was now a raging inferno. Even his tears didn't lessen the torture. It was hellfire. Matty passed out screaming, which sounded like more like a howl and made bystanders shiver at the chilling screaming.

Loud. That was Matt's first thought about the place he was at. Not bright but loud. The buzzing was like being in a pit of flies and bats surrounding him. A piercing beep impaled his eardrum every second. The clothes and blanket he was wearing were scratchy and rough like the alley cat on their block that was missing clumps of fur.

"I can't see." he whimpered but his own words rung in the air echoing. The beeping became erratic and Matt started crying out for his dad and to get out of this bed and to go home. But he didn't, not for months of doctors reteaching Matt how to eat and drink and walk. Dad saw for him. Pointing out corners and step and people for _him._

Matt still felt isolated and crowded, dry but drowning all at once. Years of pushing his temper down into the depth of himself. Years of screaming but only inside. But he cried and wept. Dad never yelled at him for it, he would sit down next to him and let Matt feel his face with all the cuts and raised skin and scars. It calmed him and reminded Matt that he _could see_ in a different way and that he was still here and alive.

Dad fought more. Matt figured it was for him, with the extra cost for a blind kid and also to try and force some normalcy that came with being Battlin' Jack's kid. Cheering him on in your living room and stitching up his wounds and swearing to him that you never fight every time he came home from the ring.

Matt never talked to anyone his age since all they talked about was him, asking the same exact questions everyone did. The hows and whats got under his skin as it was the only thing they were interested in besides themselves. He talked to the man who placed chess across from the park and occasionally played with him. The Vietnam vet with the arm prosthetic who treated him like an actual person and not a wounded puppy left out in the rain. The lady in the pizza place who toured in Iraq. Two of them were well in their 50s and up and the other was in her late 20s. They had stopped caring a long time ago and Matt followed their lead. He listened _before_ talking, really listened to things and people and places.

"That's all I'll tell you for right now. Too much to tackle in one day. I have a..deal of some sorts for you." Matt mumbled into the heavy silence. Peter sitting on the edge of the ring, the very same ring that Jack Murdock fought in and trained ever since his son was his. He was just a kid but when words poured from his mind, he could tell that the kid had it in him for this lifestyle. Parker was fully prepared to fight when he entered the gym even though Matt could smell the blood on his clothes and the stiffness of pain in his movements. He had it in him.

"Like what?" Peter said leaning forward. It was such an eager and honest response that Matt paused. Should he do this? Stark was letting Peter in the big boy sandbox but caged him off and took away his tools, only allowing the kid to watch and listen. Matt was going to take Peter out of the cage but only if he said yes. Matt sighed and swung his cane idly.

Peter's interest was peaked and he was tired of being told to wait and getting no results. He repeated his question more boldly and Daredevil (just thinking that still put his head in a loop) chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't have to do _anything_ -" Matt cut himself when he heard it. A drone. Small and quiet, lurking and Murdock wouldn't be surprised if it was branded with Stark Industries in bold. "Drone. Stark's been following you. Let's fix it." He stated, letting his senses branch out. Right upper window, where the office was. He whispered for Peter to stay there or stay low.

They crept toward to the office.

Tony frowned, his hands gliding over the controls. He had lost visual on Peter hours ago and had caught a glimpse of the random man that had disappeared with the kid. The only thing Tony had to go on was Peter entered the old empty gym/office. His drone circled the building before finding an opening on the second floor. It wormed its way into the office. No heat signatures yet as it adjusted to the surroundings. There's was shuffling, the sound of plastic smashing then static.

"Fuck."

Matt swung his cane at the pieces of the drone again just to make sure. "Look through it and destroy its GPS. See what you want and take it." he directed towards Peter. Peter found the green chip and broke it in fours. He snatched the engine for later use.

"What was the deal? Tell me." Peter said looking at Matt with purpose.

"I train you. _All access_. I'll tell you everything I know. What you do with it is up to you. But it's going to be hard. I'm not pulling any punches and neither will you. You can quit _anytime_ and I won't be mad or disappointed. You go to school then come here. If you have anything else let me know. I will not hold you like a prisoner. Take some time and then let me know." Matt notified, pulling out his card and a fifty. The teen took them.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent. Train me, _Devil Of Hell's Kitchen._ "

"Today is Friday. Come back here Monday at 4 without your suit. Tell _no one_. Go home and rest up. Be a normal teenager." Matt ordered walking out leaving Peter sitting in the ring. He twirled the card in his fingers. Then left.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Stay tuned and stay safe. Killjoy out!


End file.
